


Not getting married (today)

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Man Fitz, F/M, Wedding Planner Jemma, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: Apparently, it's not bad enough that Daisy managed to land her bouquet on his lap; no, on top of that he got a creepy (very very pretty) woman asking him to get it back. Amazing.





	Not getting married (today)

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt:"From the fluffy prompts 046: 'I caught the bouquet'." (I know nothing about weddings or wedding planning, so excuse me for any mistakes!)

“Excuse me Mr., but I’ll need you to give the bouquet back.”

He turns around so fast that he gets whiplash. On top of Daisy landing her bouquet right on his lap, now he’s got a creeper stalking him for it. Amazing. 

But it is, in fact, a very aesthetically pleasing stranger who is asking him, and Fitz lets his mouth hang open a little while she looks at him with a gentle but stern air. He snaps it shut before opening it again to reply with his best affronted tone.   

“It’s doctor.”

“What?”

“It’s doctor, no mister.”

The woman looks surprised for a moment, but then she regains her formal composure.

“Ah. Should have guessed. Could I get the bouquet back, then, Doctor Fitz?”

It’s not that he cares about the ruddy bouquet, but really, who does this woman believe she is? Being this pretty doesn’t give her the right to come barging in and- _wait a minute._ How does she know his name?

“How do you know my name?”

“Ah.” She smiles, looking very pleased with herself. “How could I not know the name of the best man, though?” She stretches out her hand, and he drops the bouquet on his lap to shake it. “Jemma Simmons, planner of the wedding. Nice to meet you.”

So this is the  _ Literally perfect wedding planner, I’m telling you, Fitz, _ Daisy has been gushing on about for months. He is not sure if that works in favour or against his annoyance.

“Indeed. But that doesn’t explain what you are doing here, hunting for my bouquet.”

He says _ my bouquet  _ like he cares about it, god, what has gotten into him? She sits down next to him at the top of the stairs, paying special attention to not wrinkle her night blue dress. 

“Since you stormed off the moment the bouquet fell on your lap, and are currently hiding in the emergency exit, I can only assume you are not happy with having gotten it. Therefore, I would like to take it out there and do a re-throwing for all the unmarried ladies out there, if you don’t mind.”

It makes sense, he guesses. He is not mad at the bouquet itself, he was just mad at the whispering all around him and at the pity glances people was sending his way. He wonders, though, if the re-throwing wouldn’t bring even more attention to the fact that he got it the first time. He still has to go out there and give his best-man speech, after all. 

“Yeah, of course.” He places the bouquet on her lap and she thanks him with a smile. “It’s not that I care about this kind of thing anyweay. No offense to your work, but I _hate_ weddings. I’m only here because it’s my best friend’s wedding.”

She looks at him with curious eyes, considering him, but instead of the _none taken_ he was expecting, she blurts out a question. 

“How long ago was the divorce?”        

He looks at her for a couple of seconds, bewildered.

“What?”

“I mean, when did you and your partner… take separate ways?”

“Divorced? I have never ever been married.”

She frowns, looking confused. 

“Oh, alright. Are you in love with her, then?”

He almost chokes at her bluntness. What is she even talking about?

“Wha’?” 

“If you are in love with Daisy. I mean, I see it happen all the time: if a man is bitter about weddings, nine times out of ten is either because of an ugly divorce or it is because he is in love with the bride. I have to warn you, though: being in love with your best friend’s wife doesn’t work out in the end.”

He looks at her with incredulity. He is sure that all she is telling him is accurate, but she couldn’t be further from the truth: that he dislikes this kind of event because he doesn't like crowds in general, and because he is fed up with being considered a male spinster because he is twenty-nine and without the perspective of getting married in the near future.    

_ “Daisy  _ is my best friend.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Are you in love with him, then?”

He groans. There, she managed to get even more further away from the truth.

“No, I’m not in love with anybody, god. Why do you even care?”

She outlines one petal f one of the flowers with her fingertip, and doesn’t look him in the eye while she replies, and even though her words are trying to be light, her tone isn’t.

“I’m responsible for this wedding, you know. And if not everyone is elated, it can’t be considered a complete success.”

He looks at her, clearly lost in her own thoughts, and the words break away from his mouth of their own accord.

“It’s just… hard, you know? To survive this kind of thing when you are alone.” 

She nods, very serious, and since there is no ring in her finger, he wonders if she feels something similar, being surrounded daily by happy couples. God, who _even_ is this woman, that he is opening up to her so easily?

“It is. I guess one has to learn to see the beauty in it: the happiness of the people who surround us, the amazing fact that even though the world is in the bad shape we all know and regret, there still are people who have enough faith in the future to promise the rest of their lives to each other. If that doesn’t give you hope and joy, what will?”

There is an indescribable knot on his chest, that is blossoming from her words, and taking up space in his lungs that is supossed to be for air.

Again, _ what even is this woman? _

Suddenly, she takes a pocket watch out of her dress, and Fitz remembers the very first reason Daisy told him she was hiring Jemma: _ She had dress pockets, Fitz. As in, all the dresses I have seen her wear had pockets. She  _ gets _ it.  _

Clearly, she totally gets it. 

“Oh, I lost track of time. Everything should be going smoothly, but I can’t risk it. Hope things will start looking up for you in the end, _ doctor  _ Fitz.”

She gets up, shakes the skirt of her dress and offers him the hand that is not holding the bouquet, but he dismisses it with a gesture and gets up too. 

“I will walk back with you. We are both responsible of this wedding being a complete success, after all.”  

(He will never be able to outlive Daisy’s teasing when he is, in fact, the next one getting married. Whenever Jemma feels like grating on his nerves, she says that she has only done it because she had a duty to keep alive the belief that wedding’s traditions actually work their magic. ) 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm accepting FS prompts here or at my tumblr, @florchis!


End file.
